The Janus Syndrome | Page 6

for debriefing in room eleven."
I pulled a sour face.
I was home again.

2. BASE BRIEF
The figures on the screen were doing a frenzied dance, scuttling this
way, that way, all ways together, bluecoats and civilians -- And Kevven
Tomari.
There was no explosion, and the police caught the sniper as he emerged
from cover.
Area Fourteen's voice said, "That is the way it should have been
handled.
There was no need to cause an explosion, with the destruction you
should have known would follow."
I sighed. "You're a damned, tin-plated, transistorized, two-star general.
I didn't have much time to think. I used the nearest means to hand, and
it went boom, and that's that."
"Mademoiselle Fossen was in possession of a needlegun, which you
could have used."
"Oh sure, sir. Except the cops would have started popping 'em at me as
well.
And there's your rules --"
"Mademoiselle Fossen had already utilized the weapon."

I hated debriefings, because it always meant I'd be told my mistakes,
and have them demonstrated to me in the process, usually by
stimulation. Even when I thought I'd done a good job, Area Fourteen
would pick holes in my operations, with infinite patience.
"Look, I don't have your brainpower, or your sheer intellect," I said.
"Nor did I have the time to consider forty thousand ways of flushing a
sniper before moving.
He'd have shot every one of those cops, and then me, if I'd given him
time."
"You should have been aware of the third man," Area Fourteen said.
His voice would have suited a mousy little accountant. Picky bastard.
"Even the Enemy have more intelligence than to simply pursue and
strike. The trap was simple. It caused you to show your hand, and quite
neatly bracketed you."
I sighed again. "Damnit, you iron maiden, I didn't even know what I
was walking into. You didn't tell me anything."
"To make you more aware of the possibility."
"I wasn't told I was going to be bracketed like that. Standing rule in that
case is to expect a tag on the contact, and that's what I watched for.
Now how the hell --"
"I would have expected a little more cautious thought on your part,
Kevven."
The screen blanked.
"And I'd have expected a damn sight more consideration on your part,
you computerized idiot! For Christ's sake, I'm not a goddamned
Builder."
He was silent for a moment. Then: "Very well. Perhaps I have been
overestimating your abilities."

"You bet."
"Sarcasm is unnecessary."
"Oh, sure it is, solid-state."
I started getting out of my floating seat.
Area Fourteen said, "You did assist in saving the life of one of our best
agents."
"And my own as well."
"I am not worried about your life, Kevven, as it is perfectly obvious
that you achieved that aim, especially as I can see you quite well,
standing and smirking at your silly sense of humor."
I pulled a face. "Yes sir, wise master djinni. Is that all?"
"No. I estimate the cost of repairing the damage you caused at
approximately one half million dollars. The funding will have to be
provided."
"I'll take 'em a check the next time I go through, " I said, helpfully.
"You shall not. I calculate --"
"I noticed. Don't bother telling me what the result would be. I can guess.
I was making a joke."
"You were?"
I sat down again, shaking my head. "You wouldn't notice."
"Perhaps not. However, to return to the subject, I was forced to reroute
funds through a total of one thousand, three hundred fifty-one pathways,
a waste of both my abilities and our own funds, said funds paying for
your lifestyle, as well as journeys such as the one you undertook from
Fresno."

"Yeah, I gotcha. A waste, right?"
There was a sigh. "Humans seem to have a capacity for destruction and
violence that far exceeds anything else in my experience."
"I don't think you have much experience then. I can name you a
half-dozen other places where they get nastier, and more often too."
"I can do very little with you while you insist on being obstreperous."
I grinned. "When we make the movie, Leonard Nimoy gets your part,
solid state."
There was a sigh. Area Fourteen loves theatrical gestures, all of which
tend to be a little on the weird side, as he appears to address you from a
point about five feet six inches from the floor, four feet in front of you.
Incongruous -- after a while you start thinking he's an invisible little
man. Eventually, you even start assigning him looks, characteristic
gestures, and so on.
He said, "I am afraid I do not understand your humor. Nor do I wish to
understand it. You appear to enjoy changing its